Don't Forget
by Open Casket Ceremony
Summary: Ichigo loses his shinigami powers in an accident. Hitsugaya blames himself for the incident. And neither of them know how to cope. IchiHitsu, two-shot. M for language and sexual references. Warning...super crappy ending ahead.
1. One

Author's Note: I don't think I need to go over the whole "I'm afraid of fic commitment" lecture again, yes? Well, anyway, yesterday night I was trying to think of some other topic to write about for my next one-shot - thanks to everyone who gave their suggestions in the reviews of my last one, keep the ideas coming! - and then _this_ came to me. It's an interesting idea, and I have never read any other fics about it...although there may be some out there that exist...This didn't come out exactly as I had envisioned it in my mind, but it'll have to do. I _hate_ the way I ended the fic, too, it sounds really dumb, so sorry about that. Anyway, hope you enjoy. And remember...keep fueling me with your reviews!

* * *

**Don't Forget**

**by Open Casket Ceremony**

* * *

Ichigo stared blankly at his bedroom wall.

He could no longer hear their voices, see their faces, feel their presences. He couldn't hold _his_ hand in his own anymore. He couldn't reach down to brush the beautiful snow-white locks out of _his_ face anymore. He couldn't take _his_ small body in his arms and hold _him_ close anymore.

It had been over a week since Kurosaki Ichigo had lost his shinigami powers.

And subsequently, because of that, he had lost all of his friends from Soul Society, people who had meant something to him.

Rukia, who had given him these powers in the first place.

Renji, who he often fought side-by-side with.

Matsumoto - and he would have to admit, he'd miss her trying to seduce her way into staying at his house for the night.

There were countless others, but he knew that there was one person he would miss more than any other.

Hitsugaya Toshiro. The first boy he had ever looked in the eyes and said "I love you" to.

It had been a long story as to how, exactly, his powers had been lost. He wasn't too sure how it had happened himself. He just remembered fighting Arrancar enemies. Blood had been everywhere, on his face, his hands, his clothes, his body. He had seen Hitsugaya a few yards away, looking to be in a real big pickle. Perhaps he was in even worse shape than the strawberry. He had pulled out all the stops, but everything seemed far from effective. He was near his limit, and Ichigo knew the young prodigy couldn't last much longer at this rate.

He was about to abandon his own fight to save his dearly beloved, but that was when he noticed something.

Aizen, too, had spotted the exhausted boy. With some kind of sick-minded interest, he took a step towards Hitsugaya, who seemed about ready to collapse. He continued walking, moving closer...closer...closer still.

Ichigo watched with his mouth opening and closing, trying to call out Hitsugaya's name, but no sound came out.

Aizen had finally reached his target, standing over the defenseless, helpless child prodigy, who was too weak to even throw a vulgar insult in the traitor's direction. With a smile of twisted amusement, he drew his zanpaku-to. It was clear he wanted to play with the defeated captain, to toy with him. To his last living moments ones filled with agony.

The strawberry had not been able to watch anymore.

Without even thinking, he had darted away from his own adversary, Zangetsu clutched in his hand as he threw himself in front of the severely wounded Hitsugaya. He then remembered releasing the strongest _getsuga tenshou_ he had ever remembered swinging from his blade, then he couldn't see anything, and then he felt excruciating pain in his whole body. He heard Hitsugaya screaming out his name. He could feel himself falling from the sky.

And when he had regained conciousness, it didn't take him too long to realize that his shihakusho, Zangetsu, the soul reapers, and even Aizen and his Arrancar were all gone.

Hitsugaya had been there, in his gigai. He had slowly explained to Ichigo that, fortunately, the strawberry's wounds hadn't been too bad, and the fourth division had been able to patch him up, good as new. They couldn't say that the Gotei 13 had won the war quite yet - after some time, Aizen and his men had retreated back to Hueco Mundo. Unfortunately, however, somehow, in that moment he had attacked Aizen, because of the sheer volume of spiritual particles and the energy it had taken to use his getsuga tenshou, he had lost all of his powers as a soul reaper.

Not only that, but he didn't even have a shred of reiatsu left.

He wouldn't even be able to see or feel a single spirit anymore, let alone a shinigami.

And because of that, there was no way he could ever return to Soul Society again, or ever fight as a soul reaper again.

Hitsugaya had given him a rolled sheet of paper, explaining that it was a decree from the sotaichou, as well as Central 46.

From the moment he took the sheet in his own hands, Ichigo knew that it could not be good news. He was still in shock and confusion about the announcement that he had lost his powers, and he didn't know what could be worse. Slowly, he unrolled the sheet and, swallowing hard, clenched his hands and read it out loud.

_Due to recent events and conditions, former subsitute shinigami Kurosaki Ichigo will no longer be able to carry out the duties of a Soul Reaper, and therefore, is no longer one. As such, any further relation with Kurosaki Ichigo will be of no use to the Gotei 13 and Soul Society as a whole. Thus, henceforth, all members of the Gotei 13 are hereby forbidden to make any more contact with Kurosaki Ichigo in the real world unless otherwise notified. _

He looked at Hitsugaya, and then grimly back to the sheet.

"So this means we can't see each other anymore, doesn't it?"

Hitsugaya seemed on the verge of tears at this point, but he was fighting them back, and doing one hell of a damn good job of it.

"Toshiro, I-"

"That is all, Kurosaki," Hitsugaya cut him off in a voice barely above a whisper. Then, he turned away, and when Ichigo blinked, he was gone.

So here Ichigo was now, staring sullenly at his blank bedroom wall. He continued to stare, his hands curling into fists. Teeth gritted viciously in frustration, he pounded his fist into his pillow. Why did this have to happen to him? Why? He was angry, frustrated, beyond depressed - a jumbled mix of emotions that made him want to vomit.

But he was not the only one suffering.

* * *

Like any normal day, life went on as usual.

Hitsugaya, as was typical of him on a weekday, was sitting in his painfully empty office, filling out paperwork in the usual monotonous routine. He knew that Ichigo's loss of powers had been his fault. If the strawberry hadn't jumped over to save his ass, then he still would have his shinigami powers. And he would still have the life that mattered more to him than the one in real world.

With a sigh, the young captain set down his pen, rubbing his temples.

It had been over a week since he had been given the grim assignment of telling Ichigo of his fate - and the guilt was still strong. Even worse was the knowledge that he was to never see his lover again.

He knew that the average soul, once delivered to Soul Society, did not feel hunger or great pain. But the special ones did.

And he wondered, as his hand moved slowly to his chest until it was directly over his heart, if it really was supposed to hurt so badly _there_, too. His fingers tightened around the fabric of his kimono until slowly, he let his hand drop back to the desktop.

Another sigh echoed around the lonely office.

He stared blankly at the paperwork in front of him. It seemed pointless to him now.

In fact, Hitsugaya was expecting Ichigo to burst through the office door and interrupt the silence like he always did. He would have never believed that he would ever miss his loud, obnoxious voice, pestering him to take a break from the administrative work and spend some time with him outdoors.

Usually, he relished the silence, but now, it was too painful to bear.

Other soul reapers had noticed Hitsugaya's change in behavior. Sure, he was always cold, but he had never been _uninterested_. And now, more than ever, he seemed to take everything with an apathetic attitude.

In hopes to cheer him up, Ukitake had been sending more candy baskets than usual. Needless to say, they had little effect and usually went straight to the garbage. Even Kurotsuchi Mayuri had seemed a little more sympathetic than usual - if at all - even if his only way of trying to offer his condolences was to offer the prodigy a job as his test subject - and he promised to be super-gentle. Also needless to say, this offer hadn't been met with much enthusiasm.

He heard the door opening, and without even bothering to put on a poker face to hide the fact that he had, for the past days, been very depressed, looked up to see who his visitor at this time in the afternoon happened to be.

"Ah, Hitsugaya-taichou..."

"Hisagi...?"

Indeed, Shuuhei Hisagi had strolled into the office, bottle of sake tucked under one arm. He glanced at the haggard young captain before clearing his throat uncomfortably, wondering if he had come in at a bad time.

"Is...Is Rangiku-san here?" he asked.

Hitsugaya shook his head. "No," he answered sullenly, "She's out and about...to who knows where."

"Then who am I supposed to share this with?" he wondered aloud, glancing at the sake in his hand.

Hitsugaya went right on back to his paperwork, continuing to fill each sheet out as if Shuuhei was made of air. He frankly didn't care whether or not the fukutaichou of the ninth division had a drinking buddy or not, and he didn't have it in him to ask him to leave. He trusted that he could excuse himself from the office.

Instead of leaving like Hitsugaya expected him to, however, Shuuhei cautiously approached the white-haired captain.

"What is it?" he muttered without looking up, "You don't have to wait for me to tell you to do so before you leave, you know."

"Look, Hitsugaya-taichou...I heard about what happened with Kurosaki Ichigo and everything..."

"Is that so?" Hitsugaya demanded sharply, suddenly annoyed, "And what's it to you, Hisagi?"

It was silent before Shuuhei quietly placed his hand on top of Hitsugaya's in a gesture of sympathy. "I'm so sorry, Hitsugaya-taichou."

"I don't need your sympathy," Hitsugaya answered stiffly before pulling his hand away, "Leave."

"I understand." Without another word, Shuuhei stood, giving the moody captain a final glance before heading for the door, his footsteps echoing eerily around the otherwise silent office. Nothing would be of use to lift the boy genius' dampened spirits at this point, but the least he could do for him, he thought, was let him take his mind off of it for a while. He turned around, facing the captain again.

"Hitsugaya-taichou...would you like to have a drink with me?"

At this moment, forgetting, even if for a few hours, seemed like a much-needed getaway for the usually uptight Hitsugaya. The white-haired boy looked at Shuuhei, then to the bottle of sake in his hand. He was desperate to stop feeling this guilt and heartbreak. He was _absolutely_ desperate.

"...I will."

* * *

Even more time had passed since he had lost his powers and since he had last seen Hitsugaya.

Ichigo, like normal, returned to school every day and tried to get on with life. But he couldn't forget those emerald eyes or that snow-white hair, even more so the pretty face and chilly voice. And it hurt even more to see Orihime and Chad dash off without him in the middle of class to get rid of a hollow, that he himself couldn't even see or feel anymore.

Orihime, Chad, and even the stony Ishida could all tell that Ichigo wasn't himself anymore. They could do little more than offer a comforting word or two or bring him out for a night of heavy partying to take his mind off of things.

And, like normal life required, at this moment, the strawberry was sitting in his desk, absently watching the teacher as she explained the day's lesson. He wasn't even listening anymore. It just didn't seem to matter.

The bell rang, and with a sigh, he stood, picking up his things and wordlessly leaving the classroom.

Walking down the school halls and out into the schoolyard was painful.

It made him remember the time when Hitsugaya and the others had come to his school from Soul Society to help with the Arrancar situation. It had also been the first time he had really gotten to know the kid.

With another sigh, he looked longingly up at the sky.

All he saw were clouds.

Nothing special. Just clouds, and the blue sky.

He exhaled again and redirected his attention to the area in front of him.

Only to find that his vision of the road ahead was being completely blocked by someone.

Said "someone" proceeded to grab Ichigo by the shoulders. "We need to talk," came a familiarly feminine voice as he was dragged off to an alley on the side where there would be at least a little bit of privacy from the outside world.

"R-Rangiku-san?"

Indeed, Matsumoto stood in front of him, in her gigai, her arms crossed over her large chest, a grim expression on her face.

"Talk?" Ichigo asked, confused, "Talk about what?"

"About taichou."

The mention of Hitsugaya sent a small hoarde of butterflies in Ichigo's stomach. He missed him that much.

"H-Hold on a second," the strawberry demanded, holding out a hand, "I thought you guys weren't supposed to communicate with me. I thought it wasn't allowed or something...so why are you here?"

"You're right, it's not allowed," Matsumoto answered.

"Then why are you-"

"That's 'cause it's an _emergency_," the tenth-division fukutaichou whined, grabbing onto Ichigo's shoulders with considerable force. "Ever since you lost your powers, taichou's been really moody, and weird, and not himself at all! I'm kind of getting worried myself...Nowadays, he slacks off on the paperwork, pretends he's sick to ditch captain's meetings - except sometimes, he has sort of an excuse to not go 'cause most mornings, he's completely hung over!"

"H-Hung over!?" the ex-subsitute shinigami spluttered, horrified.

"Yeah!" Matsumoto answered in a near shout, "He drinks even more than _I _do nowadays! It's insane! He'll drink with anyone who asks him to...Shuuhei, Kyoraku-taichou, Renji...even me if I ask nicely...and he's...he's just lost it...He sleeps around with random guys pretty much every day - after he's done drinking with them, of course, and you know how it is! Taichou's pretty, so anyone wouldn't mind getting in his pants, even for just one night! You won't _believe_ who's been fucking him these days..."

Ichigo winced at the crude words, even more so the thought of his precious ice prince with another man - or even, _men_. Hitsugaya had never been like this before. He had never been so out-of-control. And it hurt to know that it was because of _him_ that he was doing this to himself.

"...And...and anyway, the point is, you've got to do _something_ about it, or who knows what he'll do next! Nothing I say to him seems to get through anymore, not even Hinamori or his grandmother can do anything about it! I...I just don't know how to help him anymore!"

The orange-haired teen was quiet for a moment.

"...What do you expect me to do, Rangiku-san?" he asked quietly, "There's nothing I can do. And isn't it obvious? Toshiro...He...He's trying to forget about me. And I've been trying to forget about him."

"Forget!?" Matsumoto shouted, her voice feverish, "Forget!? Ichigo-kun, how could you want to forget about him!? Does taichou really mean that little to you!? You have _no_ idea how guilty he feels! He thinks it's _his_ fault that you lost your powers! Do you love him, or not!?"

"I do," Ichigo answered in a low voice, "I do. More than he realizes. But there's nothing I can do. If you'll excuse me, Rangiku-san. I have to get home. My sisters will wonder where I am."

"I...I'll give you _my_ powers!" Matsumoto spluttered wildly, "Take them! I don't want them if taichou's going to be like that for the rest of his life!"

"Rangiku-san..."

"Ichigo-kun, _please_. There is nothing more taichou wants in the world than to be able to be with you again!"

"Rangiku-san, I can't. I can't do that to you."

"Then what _will_ you do!? Let taichou destroy himself!?"

Ichigo shook his head.

"Then what? What's the plan?"

"...I'll get to Soul Society with the only way I can."

And then, turning away, Ichigo clenched his fists and stepped into the street with the busy urban traffic headed straight for him.

* * *

**The End.**


	2. Two

Author's Note: Okay, I _finally_ got the second part to _Don't Forget_ written up, but do keep in mind that I don't intend on extending it any further as there isn't much I can think of for this. This will probably be a weak installment, since I whipped it up really fast in an attempt to please you all...and considering the fact that I wanted it to end in this part, I have to tweak some rules around - for instance, if I remember right, when a soul goes to Soul Society, they have no memories of their previous life...I think. Well, here, we'll just have to _pretend _that lucky Ichigo doesn't have that rule apply to him...for the sake of this fic dragging out any longer. I am also changing the rating of this fic to M to be on the safe side. Sorry about that, and enjoy!

* * *

**Don't Forget...Part II?**

**by Open Casket Ceremony**

* * *

"Taichou?"

Matsumoto peered into the office hesitantly, pulling the front doors open the slightest crack.

She didn't know what the hell Ichigo had been thinking when he had jumped into the traffic like he had. It had happened before she could stop him, but, after reluctantly performing a soul burial for the strawberry, who had been in a huge hurry to get to Soul Society, there was little more she could do than return to the Seireitei and see how her captain was doing.

"Taichou? You in there?"

She noticed a messy pile of discarded robes on the floor - and then, to its left, a pile of empty sake bottles.

Then she noticed movement from the couch. She could make out a tuft of white hair, someone else's hand, her captain's bare legs, the top of someone else's head. Oh, _god_. She didn't even want to _know_ who the heck this other guy was. But, she did know that it was a sad, sad day when the child prodigy resorted to letting a subordinate fuck him in his beloved administrative office.

"Oh," she muttered darkly under her breath as if the currently occupied Hitsugaya was listening to her, realizing just what it was her captain was doing at the moment, "I see you're busy. I'll come back later, then."

She shut the door quietly, and slunk unhappily away.

"Let's just hope Ichigo-kun never sees something like this anytime soon."

* * *

Ichigo opened his eyes.

Blinking hard to clear his vision, he took in his surroundings.

He appeared to be in some kind of village. It was kind of cute, he thought, and by the looks of it, he guessed correctly that he was somewhere in the Rukongai. He looked around, vaguely remembering from his initial entrance into the Seireitei that the only way to get from the Rukongai into the court was from one of the gates, and no way in hell was he being blasted from some cannon again.

There were a lot of strangers around him - but he'd never get anywhere if went hunting for these gates himself.

"Excuse me," he tried lamely, hurrying to catch up with a man walking by, "Do you know where the closest gate is?"

The man stared at him blankly.

"You know," the strawberry urged, "A gate. Like, to get into the Seireitei with."

"What business do you have there with those pompous nobles?" he snorted.

"There's someone I need to see."

With a chuckle, the man strolled off, and by the looks of it, he pretty much found Ichigo to be a psycho.

His mouth hanging open, apalled at how rude some people could be, Ichigo let out an irritated huff of breath. Fine, if that prick wasn't going to help, then he'd have to ask someone more helpful, and much more polite.

Unfortunately, this did not go as planned. Every soul he attempted to ask met his request with a similar reaction, leaving him even more lost, confused, and just plain pissed off than he had been before.

"Oh, my...Are you lost, young man?"

Ichigo spun around, catching sight of who had addressed him.

Behind him stood an old woman several heads shorter than him, dressed neatly in a plain kimono, her white hair knotted in a bun and a calm smile on her aged, wrinkled face. Ichigo wanted to cry with happiness. After being treated with hostility by every soul he had encountered so far, finally - a friendly face.

"Yeah," he muttered sheepishly, "Yeah, I'm kind of lost."

"Well, why don't you come to my home for a while? I'll get you something to drink and perhaps a bite to eat until you calm down, and then we can figure things out."

"I-I'd love to!" Ichigo spluttered. That was just what he needed after a rough day - a quick break. And this old lady seemed trustworthy enough.

Feeling lighter, as if the burden had been taken partway off his shoulders, he followed her for a short distance before they arrived at a small, humble home constructed of wood, a pleasant garden in the front.

"You have a pretty nice house, ma'am," he commented.

With a smile, the old woman gestured for Ichigo to enter the house, and he did, ducking under the doorframe and stepping inside.

It was quiet, still, and cool indoors. It was a little eerie, and as he sat, the old woman who had brought him over was quick to offer him a steaming cup of tea, which he gratefully took and downed in little more than two large gulps.

"So, what did you say your name was, young man?"

"Ichigo. Kurosaki Ichigo."

"And where did you want to go?"

"To the Seireitei," Ichigo answered, placing the tea cup down. "There...Well, there's someone I really, really, really need to see."

"The Seireitei?" the woman repeated, appearing interested now as she, too, sipped her own tea. "I don't mean to be intrusive, but what is it that would bring you there? To all those nobles?"

"I know some people there," Ichigo muttered lamely. No way was he telling this stranger lady about Hitsugaya.

"I do too," the woman nodded, the sage smile still on her lips. "My grandson is a soul reaper."

"Really? That's cool, I guess."

"Yes," she smiled calmly, "He used to be such a nice boy...But then he turned from a child to a soldier almost overnight. I don't know much about what it is those soul reapers do, but I do know that at least, even if it has turned him colder, life for him is better there. They were able to turn him from my peasant grandson to something almost like a prince..." Her voice was prideful at this point, "And, that grandson of mine, he's quite the fighter. They made him into a captain."

"A captain...?"

"Yes," the old woman replied, the smile now gone, "But even captains have their weaknesses. Recently, my grandson lost someone close to him, and it's changed him even more. He came back here in tears a few weeks ago, but wouldn't tell me just what happened. And since then, he hasn't been back to visit." She sighed. "The duty of a soul reaper is a harsh one. My grandson has a fragile heart. He was never meant for a place like that."

"Well...that sucks."

"Perhaps you know him," she answered eagerly, "Would you like to see his photograph?"

"Sure," Ichigo answered with a small smile. He liked this old lady already.

Rising from her seat and hobbling to a nearby cabinet, the woman reached to its top, taking a framed photograph from its surface, shuffling back to Ichigo's side and placing the photograph on the table top in front of him.

Ichigo glanced at it, and nearly did a double take.

His jaw fell open.

"That's...That's..." he spluttered stupidly, opening and closing his mouth.

In the photograph was an unsmiling, white-haired, emerald-eyed boy.

"It's not too recent, but he hasn't changed much from then, appearance-wise...Do you know him?"

"Ma'am...Is your grandson...Is his name Hitsugaya Toshiro?"

"Why, yes, it is," she answered before eagerly asking, "Do you know him?"

"...Yeah. He's the one I need to see."

"Is that so? Well, it just so happens that my grandson is good friends with the West gatekeeper, so if you'll just come with me, I'm sure he'll let you in..."

* * *

"Thank you, Hitsugaya-taichou."

Hitsugaya did not look at the man speaking to him.

"You are excused," he answered stonily.

"Yes, sir."

He watched in silence as the man gathered his clothes, putting his robes back on. Hitsugaya did the same, slowly pulling on his kimono, clasping it shut around his body with his shaking hands.

The man gave the pale-faced captain a kiss on the forehead, and Hitsugaya didn't move, nor did his expression change in the slightest. He left the office without another word, leaving Hitsugaya sitting alone on the couch, a pile of crumpled garments next to him.

Not bothering to put on his hakama or haori, he pulled the kimono tighter around his body as he slowly rose, walking to the office restroom, turning the sink on and watching the cold water rush from the faucet. With a soft sigh, he splashed the icy water onto his face, rubbing at his temples.

He raised his head to look at his reflection in the mirror. The usually pale skin was even paler now, and his emerald eyes were dull. Dark bags hung under the heavy fringe of lashes, indicating that he hadn't had a good night's sleep, or too much to drink, or a combination of both over the past few days. He pursed his lips distastefully, the reflection doing the same.

With a sigh of self-disgust, he turned the sink off, heading back into his office and lying back down on the couch, closing his eyes.

He didn't know what had gotten into him.

He knew that he had been trying to force himself to forget Ichigo, and he hated himself for it.

The countless drinks brought him no relief, only pounding headaches and nausea. He didn't know how many times he woke up in the middle of the night, feeling sick to his stomach, and he had lost count of the times that, in turn, he had vomitted until he was too weak to move.

The countless men that he slept with brought him no pleasure. He would only lie there, naked and disgusted with himself, while he let whoever was willing to have their way with him, numb and unresponsive to their touch. There was no emotion to this. There was nothing and no one that could replace Ichigo, and he knew that, but he only tried harder to forget, had more drinks, and slept with more men.

He wasn't sure if he was doing this out of guilt or not, but whatever the case was, at least he was positive that Ichigo losing his shinigami powers had been entirely his fault. If he hadn't been so weak, then there would be no need for the ex-shinigami to come to his rescue.

Hitsugaya opened his eyes, staring blankly at the ceiling.

The boy let out another loud sigh that echoed around the deserted office.

"What am I doing?" he asked himself aloud.

It was very clear to his fellow shinigami by this point that he wasn't the same person he had been just a few weeks before. His outlook on life had changed completely, and he had become reckless. He knew what he was doing was no real solution to anything. All he was achieving, if anything at all, was letting his life go down the drain. He was destroying himself. His sanity, his social life, his _job_...all of it was hanging by a very fragile thread, and that was a fact he knew very well, but yet, he couldn't stop himself from this mindless, self-destructive drinking and sex and countless nights of being unable to sleep.

There was only one person that could save him from himself and that person was one who he was quite sure that he would never see again.

He was holding Hyorinmaru in his hands now, his fingers wrapped idly around its sheath. The tired hands slid across the midnight blue sheath before resting on the hilt, pulling the blade partway out.

"It doesn't matter," he assured himself, although with no resolution in his voice, "It doesn't matter."

Hitsugaya placed his fingers against the blade of the katana, pressing their tips downwards. His facial expression remained the same despite the sensitive flesh on his fingertips being sliced open as he pulled his fingers downwards against the cold steel. A drop of blood turned into a thin crimson line as it ran down his hands and wrists.

He lay on his couch like that for a while, he wasn't sure how long, blood on his hands, and completely still. Until the point that his fingers felt numb from being cut over and over again. This wasn't enough.

He wanted it to bleed. He wanted it to _hurt_.

The young captain slowly took his hands away from Hyorinmaru, raising his shaking hands and staring at his bleeding fingers, expressionless.

"It's not enough," he whispered, and he wasn't too sure himself what he meant by that.

He unsheathed Hyorinmaru all the way, his eyes moving from the hilt down to the tip of the blade. The metal shone in the dim light, seeming almost welcoming. He smiled, but not of happiness.

Slowly, his hands still shaking, Hitsugaya placed the katana against his left wrist. He stared at it intently, before slowly and painfully drawing the blade against the flesh. Pain shot through his arm, and he laughed coldly to himself.

The katana clattered to the floor and he let his arm drop to the side, hanging limply off the side of the couch. Blood dripped to the floor.

"It doesn't matter," he told himself aloud again.

He closed his eyes.

He wanted to just go to sleep and forget everything now. He breathed in slowly, then out again. He wondered grimly to himself how much longer he could go on living like this. Oddly, the eerie silence didn't bother him.

But the silence didn't last long.

He heard someone knocking at his door, softly, but urgently.

Hitsugaya wondered vaguely who it was. Matsumoto, perhaps? Or maybe another man looking to get laid. Either way, at this point, he was far from caring at all. Just let them come in, do their business, and leave.

"Come in," he said softly without opening his eyes, and doubted whoever was out there could hear him.

Apparently they did, because he could hear the door opening, and his visitor slowly walking in.

The sound of footsteps approached, getting louder and louder until they stopped. He heard the soft breathing, and then someone's warm hand wrapping around his own cold, bloody one.

"Let go," Hitsugaya managed to rasp out, his eyes still closed. "Don't touch me. Get out of my office."

"Toshiro...it's _me_."

Hitsugaya's breath caught in his throat. That voice...that voice was so familiar. He had been wanting to hear it for so long, but yet, hadn't been able to, and now, finally, it sounded so sweet to his ears. This had to be a dream.

He slowly opened his eyes, seeing dark chocolate eyes and bright orange hair through his hazed vision.

He didn't dare to believe this was really happening.

"Toshiro...Toshiro, wake up, please...."

"Kuro...Kurosaki?"

Hitsugaya blinked hard, trying to clear his vision, which was foggy with something he didn't know - exhaustion or tears?

Sure enough, there beside him knelt none other than the one-and-only Kurosaki Ichigo. His hold on Hitsugaya's hand tightened.

"Kurosaki...you're..."

"Shhh," Ichigo urged, his other hand reaching upwards to stroke the soft snowy locks, pushing his bangs out of his emerald eyes. "I know. I'm here now. It's really me. I...I'm here."

"How?"

"I just am."

Hitsugaya wanted desperately to burst into tears and throw himself into Ichigo's arms, but he couldn't. He was too weak, he barely even felt like he had the energy to move. Just talking was difficult enough in his current state.

"Why?" Ichigo whispered, his voice cracking, and his hand stroking his hair seemed almost frantic now. "Why are you doing this to yourself, Toshiro? This is my fault, isn't it?"

"No," Hitsugaya managed to answer, his voice painfully weak, "No, it's my own. If you hadn't come for me, you'd still have your powers...and we wouldn't be like this."

"Don't say that!" the strawberry answered, almost fiercely. "I saved you because I wanted to! That was my own choice!"

It was quiet as Hitsugaya struggled to sit up, Ichigo's hands shooting outwards instantly to support him.

Hitsugaya looked Ichigo directly in the eyes.

"My life...for your shinigami powers" he spoke slowly, "...Was it really worth it?"

"No," Ichigo whispered.

Hitsugaya stared at him for a moment, before looking away guiltily. "Then I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Ichigo insisted, now holding both of Hitsugaya's hands in his own.

"Why is that?"

"I only said 'no' because it's worth so much more than that."

* * *

**The End**

* * *

Author's Note: I didn't like how this ended...and I'm very sorry you had to wait so long for such a crappy continuation. Also, another thing - I decided to continue, and hopefully finish, _Hanging on the Edge_. So I suppose you can be on the lookout for updates on that in the next week or so, sorry if you already forgot what went on there and if you have to do some re-reading!


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